


I Used To Live Alone Before I Knew You

by harperhug



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Baked Goods, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, I Will Rub My Queer WOC Hands All Over Your Favourite Fandoms, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Manipulation, More Information Than You Want To Know About Wands, Physical Abuse, Religious Discussion, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperhug/pseuds/harperhug
Summary: "Wood scars like people do, if you know where to look. But in my experience, people usually don't know where to look for that, either."Chastity Barebone is thrown out into the cold. An angry No-Maj accidentally kills the master of the Elder Wand. Together, they set off a chain reaction that causes the repeal of Rappaport's Law.





	1. The Minor Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for emotional and physical abuse, manipulation, torture, attempted sexual assault, sexual harassment, and murder. I AM NOT KIDDING ABOUT THESE WARNINGS!

The sound of leather on skin could drown out a lot of sounds. In this instance, Chastity let it hide the sound of her knitting the ceramic plate back together from where she’d cracked it against the sink walls. Mary Lou whispered something ominous that she couldn’t hear, and Credence rasped something back.

Modesty rustled the leaflets she was printing, and when Chastity turned around, she could see her younger sister’s head bowed too far down to see what Chastity was doing. With a wave of her hand, Chastity let the cleaned and dried plates stack themselves while she all but ran to where her brother was handing his belt over to the woman with her back turned to them.

Credence’s eyes went wide, and he just barely turned his head to the side and back again in warning.

“I finished the dishes, Ma,” Chastity announced herself, hands folded primly in front of her and looking up innocently.

“Thank you, Chastity,” Mary Lou turned around with a smile that disappeared when she saw that Chastity’s clothes had damp spots from the dishwater. “Who gives you your clothes, Chastity?” she asked, in the same quiet voice she’d probably used to threaten Credence a minute ago.

“You do, Ma,” somehow, Chastity’s voice didn’t crack.

“And you completed all the tasks I told you to before I left,” Mary Lou gave Credence another hard look. “Hold out your hand.”

Chastity gritted her teeth, but the press of leather into her palms was perversely gentle.

“I want you to take Credence out behind the church. He always makes noise, and this is Modesty’s first time making the leaflets on her own. I don’t want her distracted.”

Chastity reminded herself to breathe. “Yes, Ma,” she deliberately kept her gaze off whatever expression her brother was making. She reminded herself that she could clean the snow to rub on Credence’s wounds until they didn’t hurt and stopped swelling. And she was sure she wouldn’t hit as hard as Mary Lou.

In fact, as she found out only when faced with Credence’s scarred arms in the back alley, Chastity couldn’t hit him at all.

“I’m not mad at you,” Credence said at almost normal volume. “I won’t be upset.”

“You’re already upset,” Chastity hissed, letting her arm drop to her side.

Credence took the belt from her hands and waited until she closed her eyes to start hitting himself as quietly as he could.

The sound of leather on skin masked a lot of different sounds. In this instance, it hid the sound of footsteps on snow-

“Credence!”

-but not Mary Lou’s voice or the anger it held. Chastity’s head snapped back when she saw that Credence handing his belt over with bloody hands, accepting the blame for something she and Chastity had decided together. She took a step forward, mouth opening in protest.

Between her second step and what was going to be a third, her feet planted themselves on the ground and her mouth creaked shut of its own accord. She was frozen in place by something less paralyzing than fear but no easier to overcome. Chastity struggled against it, partly to see where the caster was, but mostly to avoid looking at her brother.

Five strikes in, the spell released Chastity and she allowed herself to take in one openly shaky breath before standing up straight and putting as much no as she dared into her gaze. Mary Lou wasn’t even a little fazed, walking right up to Chastity with the belt held out in front of her, the world’s worst offering.

Chastity let the belt slip through her fingers and took a step back. “I’m not going to do it,” her voice echoed off the bricks and she winced at her own volume.

Mary Lou yanked Credence up and all but pushed him back inside the church. With the same hand, she stroked Chastity’s face. “Yes you will,” she said gently. “Once you come to your senses, you can come back in.”

This time, it was fear that nailed Chastity’s feet to the ground, at least until she heard the snap of the lock against the door that she hadn’t even noticed close. She was meant to stay outside, in the snow and the cold, until she agreed to-

No, no. Chastity gathered her frayed thoughts together. The idea of beating her little brother wasn’t worth entertaining. Besides, she was the golden child, the prodigal daughter. Mary Lou’s suspicions never fell on her, something she tried not to remember taking advantage of as a child. If she could just survive this one night, it was likely that Mary Lou would take her back in the morning.

Mind made up, Chastity made her way to the subway that she and Credence used to sleep in when Mary Lou kicked them out. It was a warm, restful place after one got used to the noise, and she might even come back with a coin or two for freshly-roasted chestnuts she could sneak to her siblings. She imagined their warmth seeping into her hands, imagined their scent, imagined their powdery sweetness, and definitely never imagined the pair of hands that tangled themselves in her skirt.

She tried to yank herself away, and when that didn’t work she screamed as loudly as she could. Not only did no one come to her aid, but the lit window next to her actually dimmed. Something cloying forced its way down her throat, muffling her voice. Her worst fears were confirmed when she looked at her attacker’s hand and found a lumpy wand. He raised it above her head and she closed her eyes.

She heard a sickening crunch and an even more sickening thump. When she opened her eyes again, blood was spreading across the snow under the man’s considerably-flatter head, so thick it was almost black. Chastity knew before she placed two fingers on the man’s neck that his heart was not beating and never would again. The heavy book lying several feet from the man’s body was the most likely cause, and she dusted snow off the cover as she picked it up.

This time, when light, rushed footsteps crunched against the snow, she heard them perfectly and turned to see a woman in a nightgown as white and thin as paper running toward her. Besides how her hands were tucked into her armpits, Chastity’s savior seemed scarcely aware of the cold and snow.

“Is he okay?” her savior asked anxiously, dark hair starting to come out of her sleep bonnet. The young woman shivered, hunching over as much as Credence.

“He’s dead,” Chastity tried to imitate Mr. Graves’ calming, smooth voice. “Here’s the book,” she held out what appeared to be a medical text in Japanese or Chinese. “And I never actually saw you throw anything on his head, so I don’t know who killed him.”

“Ha,” her savior smiled weakly. She took a step forward with an outstretched hand and turned bone-white when she started to slip on a lumpy wand in the snow. Chastity reached out with her free hand to grab her. When the young woman moved to take her hand away, Chastity reflexively tightened her grip. Then she realized what she’d done and yanked her hand away. Chastity took one step back, then another, until she saw the dead man out of the corner of her eye and bent down to pick up his feet.

“Do you need help?” her savior asked uncertainly. Every line of her body was screaming her reluctance to touch the corpse, but after nudging the lumpy wand out of her way with a soaking blue moccasin, she took a step forward anyway.

Chastity shook her head. “You should go back inside,” she said, “you’re barely wearing anything.” And it’ll be easier to make the corpse float when you’re not watching.

“Okay,” her savior said, not moving from where she was still hunched over against the tenement building. “I live on the third floor, eighth room on the right. Or you can ask any of the neighbors for Pearlie Chun, if you want. If I don’t come when you knock, it’s because the kettle’s whistling and I can’t hear, so wait a minute and knock again.” Chastity’s shock must have shown on her face, because her savior quickly added, “If you want. You don’t have to, if you have somewhere else to go.”

“Thank you,” Chastity said before Pearlie could rescind her offer. She waited until Pearlie’s footsteps faded away to step into the shadows between dim, poorly-maintained lamps. The wand Mr. Graves had given her was still in the secret pocket she had sewn to the back, and she gripped it tightly, not sure how to call for the wizard.

The air parted just behind her, and Chastity let herself smile in relief. She had done it correctly after all.

* * *

 

Graves felt the tug of a summoning charm from his wand. A quick check of the other end showed Chastity Barebone, already hidden, next to the body of a wizard and some indistinct but very powerful artifact. He filed down his spike of fear that the wizard had used said artifact to hurt her—besides, if it had been so powerful, surely the wizard wouldn’t be dead. He put his longcoat on and apparated as close as he could to the body, which startled Chastity despite his best effort to stay quiet. He looked around surreptitiously for any stray No-Maj eyes, but it seemed that New Yorkers were doing their New Yorking best not to notice anything out of the ordinary. He let himself a smug grin for the poor aurors in MACUSA’s Alabama office, working amongst No-Majs who wanted to know every single thing about everyone’s business, before turning his attention back on Chastity.

Dark magic clung to the air like an approaching thunderstorm.

“What did he do?” he demanded, eyes scanning Chastity for injury.

“He…I didn’t know anything was wrong until he grabbed me,” Chastity shivered, not entirely because of the cold, and Percival put a hand on her shoulder, not moving away when her entire body involuntarily shifted toward him.

“He just grabbed me, at first,” Chastity shivered again, probably just now realizing how close the man had gotten to her. “He raised his wand and I did…something,” Chastity averted her eyes, and Graves was irritated that he couldn’t tell whether it was out of shame or the desire to hide something. Not many people, magical or not, could hide things from him, and he understood why Chastity had gotten as good at it as she had, but it still irritated him when he couldn’t figure out the truth.

“You said he had a wand,” Graves looked around. “What did it look like?”

“It was dark. And lumpy, all the way down,” Chastity pointed to…an empty indentation in the snow. The outline was unmistakable, but there must be a mistake.

“Lumpy,” Graves cleared his throat when he heard how strained and high-pitched his voice was. “Lumpy?”

“It was right there, Mr. Graves. I didn’t kick it away or anything. It just disappeared,” if Chastity leaned any further away from him, she’d have to take a step back.

Graves slipped his wand into the holder attached to his belt and held up his hands to show that he was wandless. Chastity didn’t look any more relaxed, which was fair. Graves had probably performed more magic without his wand than with it. It was more of a conduit to help him aim more powerful, destructive spells than anything else.

He was shaken out of his reverie when he remembered what time it was, and what that must mean for the eldest Barebone girl.

“She threw you out for the night?” Usually it was Credence who needed shelter from the snowstorms that had been plaguing the area. “I can-”

“It’s alright, Mr. Graves,” Chastity said quickly. “It wouldn’t be proper…I have a girl friend,” her voice faltered.

So not shame, but deception. But if the Elder Wand was involved, he needed to get the wizard’s body back to MACUSA right away to begin an investigation, and the less Chastity was involved, the better it would be for her and all her siblings. He lifted the block of snow carefully with one hand and picked up the dead wizard considerably less carefully with the other. Shit, he still had to apparate.

He let the wizard’s body gently settle back down against the bloody snow so his hand was free to pick up his wand and summon what was left of his investigative team. Every single one of them. He considered calling Seraphina to have her reinstate Goldstein, and even entertained the thought that maybe the auror would prove herself and the reinstatement would be immediately permanent just a week after the demotion. But Seraphina would refuse that kind of blow to her pride and authority, unless she could also bring magical children into their world and the Barebones had proven themselves unwilling to leave their No-Maj little sister alone with Mary Lou. It was best to let things stay as they were for the time being.

He felt the summonses being answered as the aurors apparated into his office, and with a flick of his wand, the wizard’s body appeared in front of his desk, bloody snow and all. There, now he was free to take the snow mold of the Elder Wand with him. If Chastity really did have somewhere to stay, or if she just didn’t trust him yet…

Well, the girl had much more sense than her brother, that was certain. “Best of luck tonight, Chastity,” he said, leaving a small Warming Charm on her coat before disapparating. Even if she couldn’t feel it now, it should be enough to keep her from freezing to death should the worst happen.

All eyes were drawn to the snow mold the minute Graves walked in.

“Sir, is…is that-” to his surprise, timid John Douglass was the first to speak up.

“It is indeed the indentation of the Elder Wand. Did anyone find out what killed him?” Graves nodded to the dead man with his brains still leaking into the unmelting snow.

“Blunt-force trauma,” equally-blunt Mary Friedan answered. “His skull caved in under massive force.”

“I know what blunt-force trauma is and what it looks like,” Grave held up an impatient hand. “Do we know what created the force?”

“No,” Helen Woodhull cringed before the face Graves tried to soften. “It wasn’t a magical force, sir. Whatever killed this man, it wasn’t magical in nature and we can’t trace it.”

“So you’re telling me that the current master of the Elder Wand cannot be identified?” Graves knew he was glaring.

“If we find the man’s identity, we can find his enemies. Someone with the Elder Wand would have plenty,” William Spooner suggested.

“If?” Graves waved his hand, and Ilvermorny’s attendance records floated down from their shelves near the top of the ceiling.

The aurors mumbled something Graves chose to interpret as their thanks before shuffling out of the room, and Graves moved the body into the basement mortuary before Vanishing the snow. At least a third of the attendance records were still floating in the air, unclaimed. With a sigh—and a glass of brandy—he sat down to work.


	2. The Baffled King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chastity realizes she likes Pearlie a LOT more than she should, and Queenie interrupts Graves' investigation. And his nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of off-screen sexual harassment. And probably blasphemy.

“Thank you, Mr. Graves,” Chastity said to empty air before heading up the stairs. Third floor, eight room on the right. It wasn’t difficult to find, because the door was still open to reveal Pearlie hunched over her dining room table, one hand covering her mouth and tears falling out of horrified eyes. Chastity almost didn’t notice the lumpy stick of wood amongst all the lumpy branches on the table, but her stomach dropped when she did.

 Somehow, the wand that had managed to put a look of fright on Mr. Graves’ face had transported _itself_ onto Pearlie’s dining table.

Against all her instincts, when Chastity walked toward Pearlie to put her hand on her shoulder, she made as much noise as possible. Pearlie leaned back, still distressed, and Chastity held still until her savior relaxed enough to let her arms hang by her sides again.

“I can get rid of it for you,” Chastity offered.

Pearlie surprised her by standing up straight and grabbing the wand with both hands. No longer hunched over, Pearlie was actually the taller of the two, even if only by an inch. Chastity had to look up to meet her eyes, like Mary Lou , but Pearlie’s gaze was not meant to intimidate, and Chastity didn’t even realize she’d been slowly relaxing until she was sitting down with her head resting on the crook of her elbow.

She hadn’t been given permission to sit, but she hadn’t given permission for the woman in front of her to throw a brick of a book down onto a wizard’s head either.

“You’re one of those Second Bareboners, eh?” Pearlie’s voice wasn’t dismissive, condescending, or awed, so Chastity had no idea where she was going with this. “So you believe in the Christian god?”

“Chastity Barebone from the New Salem Preservation Society, and y-yes?”

“I don’t,” Pearlie said bluntly. “I believe in…not the stories my mother told me, not exactly. She used to say that the trees watched over us because they had the best wisdom. You know, they can live to be thousands of years old?”

Chastity shook her head, trying not to feel too foolish. It wasn’t her fault there wasn’t any opportunity for botany in the church.

Pearlie continued like it didn’t matter. “This was made from a chestnut tree my grandmother planted,” she said, picking up a wooden Buddha carving from a shelf and flipping it so that the rings in the flat base were visible. “You see where the ring is thin, here?” she pointed, and this time Chastity was relieved she could nod. “The year that happened, it was so cold that my grandmother died,” Pearlie touched the Buddha’s forehead tenderly. “The point is, wood scars like people do, if you know where to look. But in my experience, people usually don’t know where to look for that, either.” She placed the carving back on the shelf, spine too rigid in a way that made Chastity stare down the shelf at the rest of the carvings, unable to see Pearlie’s stricken face.

After a long silence, Pearlie spoke again. “I used to climb the chestnut tree when I was a child, because I could see into the neighbor’s farm on top of it. I did that one day when I wasn’t a child anymore, and the branch I was standing on broke. My mother was furious. I think she saw the tree as the last living thing my grandmother left her, so she made me carve this Buddha out of it to remind me that I was as bad for the chestnut tree as the frost that killed my grandparents. She begged for my forgiveness one night when she saw me asking the Buddha to forgive me for walking past a starving dog and not feeding it. The Buddha is the one you’re supposed to ask to be happy, not the one you’re supposed to ask to stop being sad, not like the Christian cross.”

Chastity frowned. “We don’t ask for forgiveness from the cross, we…” she thought for a moment, “it hangs over the confessional in some Catholic churches, where the sinner asks the priest for forgiveness. But I can see why you would be confused.”

Pearlie smiled as she looked at her pile of scrap wood. Her fingers danced over several of the smaller ones at the top before settling on one that was about two-thirds the length of the lumpy wand. “It’ll be a nice decoration, either way. I told you, I don’t believe. But most of my neighbors have a cross somewhere in their homes. It might help…” she bit her lip as her voice trailed off, then shrugged and let out a light laugh.

Chastity turned back to the other carvings on the shelf. “Did you make all of these?” she gestured, impressed. They were all more or less realistic depictions of animals looking toward the sky, from a rather crude dog with an unusually rectangular ball in its mouth to a much more realistic cat batting at a string.

“It’s a hobby,” Pearlie said dismissively.

Something shrieked in the kitchen, and Chastity stepped in between Pearlie and-

The sound was just a whistling tea kettle.

Chastity didn’t resist when Pearlie pushed her back into her recently-vacated chair. “Thank you, milady, for saving me from such a terrifying beast!” Pearlie pretended to swoon as she went to pour the tea.

“Well,” Chastity felt a little uncomfortable. Play-acting had never been allowed in the church. Mary Lou considered it equivalent to lying, and proof of idleness. “It was the least I could do, after you saved me from,” she jerked her chin downward.

When she dared to lift her head again, Pearlie was holding two cups of tea with a sheepish expression. “I didn’t think I could throw that hard,” she placed one in front of Chastity and sipped delicately at her own. “I was just angry that…urgh, needs more honey. Do you want honey?” she asked, walking back to her kitchen to pull out a small round bottle with just a thin layer of golden brown at the bottom.

Chastity’s mouth was watering at the sight of it. She

“Sure,” Pearlie waved Chastity over before continuing, “I was just angry because of…you know Senator Shaw?”

The change of topic caught Chastity by surprise. “Um, yes. Ma’s been talking to his brother about putting us in his paper.”

Pearlie snorted. “Look elsewhere. That entire building is staffed by perverts, let me tell you,” she took an angry sip of tea, which was something Chastity didn’t know could be done until just then.

“Oh?”

Pearlie swiped at her eyes and hissed like a cat. “That Senator thinks that just because my hands scrub his floor, I won’t mind touching his giblets,” she swiped at her eyes again and continued hissing. “I don’t know why I’m crying!” she almost shouted. “I’m _angry_ , I’m not sad! I don’t know why I’m crying! I didn’t even get this upset when I actually _killed_ a man! I don’t know why I’m crying!”

Chastity wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to reach for the woman right now, but if Pearlie hadn’t been bothered by touch immediately after killing another human being, surely she wouldn’t mind it now. Her hands barely made contact before Pearlie yanked her shoulder out from under them. Instinctively, Chastity drew her hands behind her.

“It’s fine,” Pearlie’s voice wasn’t flat, dangerous. She was probably not about to hit Chastity with Credence’s belt. Not even just because Credence wasn’t even there. Chastity could’ve hit herself for her stupidity.

But she didn’t, because Pearlie was still talking, and she should probably straighten up and listen before that knife whittling the branch could find its way to Chastity’s skin.

“…so then he fired me, in front of the whole floor, so even if I wanted to go back and grovel for my job, he’s too proud to make that public of a concession. So I’m probably going to lose this apartment after I run out of animals to sell,” Pearlie nodded to her wood sculptures. “But you’re welcome to stay here until then,” her next sip of tea was much calmer.

Chastity didn’t even have to think. “I can’t leave my brother and my sister to face Ma alone,” she said immediately. “But, if it comes to it…I was walking toward the subway. It’s got a roof, there’s plenty of nooks and crannies to hide in, and if you show me your spot, I’ll come bring you anything I can find.” _Anything I can steal. Anything I can charm into existence._

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Pearlie said, and she actually sounded sincere. “My guest room is a bit dusty. It’s been a while since I’ve had a sheba over.”

“I don’t mind,” Chastity responded. “I promise to leave it cleaner than you found it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just-”

The room fell completely silent after Chastity’s stomach growled.

“Tea’s not the most filling meal,” Pearlie said before Chastity could apologize. “Um, my gas was shut off, so you have the choice between cold chicken and cold apples,” she took both items out from the icebox.

Chastity just stared until Pearlie’s shoulders drooped and she hastily put the chicken back in the icebox. “Apples are easier to wash,” she said nervously, running the fruit under a thin trickle of water. “They haven’t shut my water off, but there won’t be any more warm water for hours, and apples taste better cold,” she rambled before shutting her mouth so hard her teeth clicked together.

“Thank you,” Chastity accepted the apple. It was the sweet, like its giver, and just a little bit tart. Like its giver. Chastity couldn’t hide her smirk at her own joke.

“Swanky,” Pearlie grinned.

Chastity offered her the apple, and they took turns until the barest seeds were left.

“Still hungry?” Pearlie asked. Her eyes sparkled like amber, and Chastity should feel like a trapped fly.

“Not really,” Chastity’s answer was as high-pitched as Mr. Graves’ had been. In her desperation to look at anything but those eyes again, Chastity settled for a spot of juice in the corner of Pearlie’s mouth, right between two soft red…that wasn’t any better.

“You know,” oh goodness Pearlie was leaning forward so that her arms pushed her breasts forward, “my guest room is pretty dusty,” Chastity should probably take her eyes off them now, “but my room isn’t.”

Now Chastity could look up, so alarmed that Pearlie drew back with a hasty, “I’m not asking for anything that you don’t agree to!”

Chastity rose, unsure how to respond. She wanted to offer Pearlie something in return for the apple, the shelter, the _book_ , and honestly Pearlie was so pretty it wouldn’t even be hard. But this was the first time she’d ever had anyone focus romantic intentions on her, and even if she didn’t really believe Ma’s sermons, her disparagements toward homosexuality were ringing in her ears.

“Chastity,” this time Pearlie’s voice was firm, demanding an answer without threatening punishment. “Chastity, what do you want to do?”

* * *

“Sir!”

Graves sat up so quickly that something cracked at the base of his neck. He winced at the light from behind Queenie Goldstein and her tray of coffee. She kicked the door shut behind her without instruction, which meant his mind was open again. Reinforcing his Occlumency and blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Graves realized that the lights in his office must have dimmed after he’d fallen asleep. And he hadn’t even contacted half the names on his list.

“What is it, Miss Goldstein?” he grumbled.

“Please, Auror Graves, you’ve gotta stop Madam President. She’s gonna fire Tina, and I know she messed up, but she only did it so that woman would-”

“What did she do?” Graves asked as he waved his hand to smooth the winkles out of his overcoat so he could cut his usual imposing figure.

Queenie patted his hair, which gave a very small crunch under her fingers—saliva. If Percival Graves were the kind of man to cringe, he would’ve cringed.

He cringed.

“Aw, don’t worry about that, honey,” Queenie didn’t stop patting his hair down.

Graves ducked out from underneath her hand and spelled his hair clean. “Queenie, the Second Bareboners—I mean, the Second Salemers are a rapidly rising threat to the social order. I can’t imagine Sera would pull Porpentina out of that investigation for anything less than Grindelwald himself appearing in the middle of that godforsaken church and blowing it up. So, please just tell me, what she did.”

“She saw Mary Lou Barebone whipping her son,” Queenie whispered, “so she jinxed her right in the middle of a meeting.”

“Have they all been obliviated?” Graves demanded, trying to decide whether his horror was from the thought of Credence being beaten _again_ or the thought of his best auror doing magic in front of exactly the kind of No-Maj who would expose wizardkind everywhere.

“Yes, but…” Queenie cut herself off by biting her lower lip.

“Out with it, Queenie,” Graves growled.

“Missus Barebone had to be obliviated twice, and we’re not sure if the second one stuck, but we can’t do a third one so soon or her family’s going to notice that something’s different about her,” Queenie said in a rush.

“I’ll talk to Seraphina if,” Graves told Queenie as he grabbed the mug of coffee, “you agree never to tell anyone I drool in my sleep.”

Queenie giggled and nodded eagerly. “That’s perfectly alright, sir!”

He took a sip of the coffee—quarter milk, two sugars, exactly how he liked it—and a vision of Tina filling out a chart at the Wand Permits office came and went in a flash.

“That man down at—I think it’s Wand Permits that has the opening— how does he like his coffee?” Graves called behind him.

“The Wand Permits office filled that opening already,” Queenie answered promptly. “And Abernathy hates taking it black, but that’s how he thinks you like your coffee.”

Graves didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. “Give me two of those, and stop breaking into my office,” he grumbled with no real threat behind it. He could hear the echo of Queenie’s giggle before Red took him downstairs.

“I heard you had an opening,” he barged into Abernathy’s the way he imagined Abernathy pictured powerful men. “I have someone for you. Let’s talk over coffee,” he forced one mug into Abernathy’s hand.

“There’s no need, Director Graves,” Abernathy’s eyes were wide as Queenie’s saucers. “I’m sure whomever you have in mind will be perfect for the job.”

“Hmm, excellent. I’ll send Porpentina Goldstein downstairs in a minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20s slang:
> 
> Giblets=balls
> 
> Sheba=a sexually attractive woman
> 
> Swanky=an expression meaning that things are good

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have two sequels: one with a Gravebone ending and one without a Gravebone ending.


End file.
